


the miles between

by abbyleaf101



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: 145 Bloody Mary, Episode Related, Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-11-04 13:01:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20703770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbyleaf101/pseuds/abbyleaf101
Summary: Jon goes back to his office





	the miles between

**Author's Note:**

> Brief reference to self-harm and eye trauma as relevant to the episode, and a brief illusion to suicide/suicidal ideation in regards to whether letting yourself starve to death to avoid becoming a horrific fear monster/to run away with your not-boyfriend is a reasonable course of action 
> 
> originally posted to tumblr @ kneentoess

jon goes back to his office 

it’s cold. 

or maybe it’s not his office that’s cold - maybe it’s him. he almost wishes there was fog in here, the encroaching tendrils of the Lonely, twisting it’s way into his chest. at least that would explain why his hands are shaking and his chest cavity feels hollowed out, like one of the Unknowing’s mannequins. and at least - at least martin would be there, somewhere in the fog. at least they’d be in the Lonely _together_.

there’s no fog, though, just the abandoned recorder, tipped over onto the floor, eric’s statement still stuttering at the end of the tape. somewhere underneath the cold there’s a slowly burning fire; not the Desolation’s, but it grows when he wonders whether Gertrude actually burned Eric’s page; when he thinks about Gerry, and about the love denied to him; about father and son caught in the same, abominable trap. jon thinks he might be properly angry about it later, and maybe sad. he might even mourn.

but right now all he can feel is cold. 

there’s a quiet click at his elbow, not that he really notices it. not like he needs it, to go over the most words he and martin have spoken in months, in - christ - nearly a year, between his … coma, and everything.

he supposes it’s not a surprise that martin said - what he said. not when he started the conversation by fucking up, like he always does, some inflection on ‘thank you for your little … intervention, by the way’ that turned the air sour between them. couldn’t really expect anything different, probably. he wasn’t the easiest person to get along with even before … all of this, although in a terribly funny way he thinks he’s probably better at it, now, which is. damning, really. certainly Daisy seems to think he’s better now than he was, as if that’s saying much of anything at all, considering.

‘no. you’re the first’. or the last, jon supposes, and feels sick to his stomach. he’s failed them all, and didn’t even realise martin was the first in so many ways until it was too late, until martin slipped through his fingers like so much smoke.

‘i don’t want to do it alone. we could leave here. you and me’. it had tumbled out of his mouth before he’d even thought about it - because, because what else was there? and he might have been talking about _gauging his eyes out_, but he wasn’t really, and martin had to know that, right? he’d always been better at reading jon than any of them had ever given him credit for, better at everything than any of them had given him credit for, right up until he proved he might be better than all of them at all of this.

‘don’t make it my decision’, martin had said, after, and it had been - not cruel, because probably it was all he deserved at this point. martin had no reason to trust him, no reason to think this was anything but self interest, nothing but a search for absolution from a course of action from someone who would not contradict him, because jon had never given martin a reason to think any differently and because he’s an idiot and because martin was -

the tape caught, spluttering, and replayed itself, stuck on a single phrase over and over. ‘could you even survive - could you even survive - could you even surv -’

jumping to ‘maybe it’s worth it’ 

(no, jon thinks, the cold seeping deeper in, no it wasn’t, together and us and we wasn’t worth - ) 

he expects the recording to stutter forward, to that cold, awful laugh that had tumbled out of martin’s mouth, the burning hot accusations even though martin’s office has been _freezing_. to ‘i can’t follow you on this one’, which hadn’t been what he was asking for, but was more than he deserved, anyway. expected it to jump to ‘well i’ll be here, if you ever do need me’, but -

it doesn’t - it skips back;

‘could you even survive’ - ‘ worth it’ - ‘could you even survive’ - ‘worth it’ - ‘could you even survive’ - ‘ worth it’

jon _hates_ the tape recorder, suddenly, for recording this; for making him relive this; for being there and realising this was one of the most important moments of his life and it was the worst one, it was The End in a way that felt more terrible than the promised End, but then the tape recorder scratches, again, in a way the feels almost judgemental, to -

‘don’t make it my decision’ -

“fuck”

______________

“i didn’t mean it,” jon says, still out of breath, desperate and strained. “not like - I didn’t mean, I just meant -”

martin’s voice is tired, pained, grimly amused: “jon, we’ve been over thi -”

“i didn’t mean it how it sounded,” jon repeats, closer this time. quieter. “I didn’t mean dying might be worth it. I meant - the being _together_ would.”

“oh.”

“yeah. so I - I know you have things to do. I know Peter wants you for the Lonely. but I think - I think - maybe the eye gauging isn’t a necessary component of the being-together, because I wanted you to be _safe_, but only if it was together, not that i mean - obviously that’s not -”

a muffled thud, like a chair being tipped over, taking the tape recorder with it, and padding footsteps on carpet. “okay. _okay_.”

_statement ends_

**Author's Note:**

> I think Martin was actually right with Jon up until he asked 'what if you die' and Jon said 'I don't know; maybe it's worth it'. Given Martin's 'I just need him to be /safe/', letting Jon die isn't something he would ever be willing to accept, not ever. Not if there was a chance. 
> 
> Whereas I think Jon meant 'maybe it's worth it' to mean, being together would be worth it, being with you, being an us, would be worth it, being free, even if I died, would be worth it, because it meant I got to be with you, and also YOU were safe 
> 
> Martin never actually said /no/. Just, I can't. Not yet. 
> 
> Come say hi @ kneentoess on tumblr   
so there's just layers and layers of miscommunication, and a sort of heartbreaking conflict of priorities (i.e. they're each other's) and layer over THAT is the creeping effect of the Lonely and Jon's awful person skills in the past.


End file.
